Astral Disaster
by Crystia
Summary: Astral was human all along—so Yuma wonders, did Astral fake their friendship, too? Forgiveness takes time, effort, and a battle to defeat Dr. Faker and his shadow powers. (YumaxAstral)
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: yaoi ahead (Yuma x human Astral)**

* * *

When Astral showed up and turned Yuma's life upside down, Yuma had stared a little, said hello, and dueled with him side-by-side.

Well, it was more like he gaped, shouted, and blatantly ignored the spirit's suggestions, but he never did question if Astral truly existed. Whether due to incredible bravery or extreme stupidity, he believed wholeheartedly in someone no one else could see—and only questioned his sanity on occasion.

Of course, his friends all credited this belief to stupidity, but he could live with their affectionate mockery, if not under protest. He appreciated that they all believed in him anyway, even if they teased.

Everyone laughed and joked about his gullibility, and maybe they had a point, but Yuma also recognized that the basis of his conviction laid with Astral because believing in _someone_ was infinitely easier than believing in _something_. He trusted Astral beyond a doubt, and after all they'd been through, he didn't understand how he couldn't. When the duelist stood by his side, defended him unfailingly, and trusted him irrefutably, naturally Yuma would return the gesture.

On the other hand, the Astral World and the Numbers cards were ideas, _things_ that Astral claimed were real, and consequently more difficult for him to believe in. But when that _someone_ he trusted with all his heart believed in _something_, he could accept the impossible. He could handle it because Astral always supported him.

Always had, at least.

The AR faded around them, but Yuma barely noticed when the holograms shattered. His lips formed a soundless _'no'_ and he found himself unable to shout or move. Raw, instant terror didn't mean screams and sobs or pitiful begging. True terror meant silence, and at the moment he was so petrified he didn't even have the presence of mind to cry out. He just _locked down._

There wasn't much to say, anyway, or rather he had too much to say when he knew that these were his last moments with his best friend. He couldn't possibly convey how much he cared and how much he _believed_ in such a short amount of time.

In the end, when he managed to speak, his words were pathetically cliche. When his brain failed to respond, his lips uttered the phrases most automatic, familiar, and known.

"No," he finally croaked out, collapsing to his knees and not even feeling the gravel scrape dozens of tiny gashes into his skin. His voice rose, as if he could prevent the unpreventable if he just shouted loud enough. "No! You can't go, not without me. I didn't mean to lose. I didn't mean to...!"

"It's not your fault, Yuma," Astral trailed off, his gaze focused intently on the distraught boy in front of him. He sounded resigned, morose, but not overly surprised. He glanced briefly at his last opponent. "Or Kaito's."

Turning back to the dark-haired boy in front of him, he leaned down, his corporeal body flickering in the dim light of the darkening street. His voice rose urgently, making sure his partner heard his final, sincere words.

"Yuma. I want to thank you...for being my friend."

The spirit vanished as he spoke and Yuma could only shake his head in denial, incapable of accepting that he was helpless. Astral gave him a slight smile, reaching out to touch his partner's shoulder even as his hand faded. Almost in a trance, Yuma reached out as well.

There was no one left to touch. His friend was gone.

"No," he choked, his fingers grasping at empty air. "No. Astral—"

"Yuma," Kaito called out neutrally, cutting off the horrified outcry. His footsteps echoed on the street, the crumbled road crunching under his feet. "Stand up."

Yuma stared at him blankly, looking right at him with glazed eyes, but not truly focused on the scowling blond. He was instead trapped in the past, the last image of Astral replaying in his mind. He was oblivious to how Kaito watched with clenched fists and how Yuma, hunched at his feet, unnerved him.

"Yuma," Kaito repeated, more harshly this time. His expression remained stoic, but his sharp command betrayed his inner disquiet. "Get up!"

"Astral," Yuma whispered, his faltering voice growing hysterical as his head fell into his hands. "_Astral!"_

"Yuma," Kaito said again loudly, finally kneeling beside the other boy and roughly shaking his shoulders. The smaller boy rattled in his grasp. "Idiot, get a hold of yourself."

Lifting his head from his arms, the agitated teen focused on the blond duelist in front of him at last. For a moment, his gaze remained blank and disoriented, and then he remembered that _Kaito_ was the one who defeated them, and it was all _his_ fault.

Yuma violently shoved away the other teen's arms, before realizing in that same instant that he couldn't blame him. They had accepted the duel knowing the risks, Kaito had dueled fairly, and then Yuma had lost.

It was _Yuma's_ fault.

"Astral's gone," he whispered brokenly, his head falling back in his arms. He curled up, drawing his knees to his chest. "It's all my fault."

He had lost, and now Astral was gone.

_It was all his fault._

"What do you mean, Astral's gone?" Kaito asked coldly, the question coming out more like a command and disguising the shock that flickered across his features.

He wondered briefly if that meant he'd been dueling Yuma, not both of them—but he was certain that he had been fighting their combined strength. He'd struggled to win, which was more effort than he would have required to defeat the idiot alone.

The boy didn't answer him, and Kaito reached out to shake his shoulders again with choleric force. "What do you mean?"

"He was from another world," Yuma explained tightly, sounding as though someone was strangling him but wouldn't show enough mercy to just crush his throat and end it. "And if I lost, he would disappear."

"What?" Kaito hissed in disbelief, his eyes widening. "Then why were you dueling? This duel—"

"Astral and I decided we wouldn't back down, no matter what," Yuma said miserably. "But...Kattobingu didn't work this time. If I was just a better duelist— If I'd won—"

"Idiot," Kaito breathed, unable to believe his rival was gone forever, and that _he_ was the one who had sacrificed his rival for his own means.

The duelist tightened his grip on Yuma's shoulder, and he could feel the smaller boy trembling violently in his grasp. Or maybe that was both of them.

It didn't matter. He let go.

He didn't mourn. He prioritized Haruto's well-being over his rival and Yuma without hesitation. Besides, they weren't even his first victims. He had stolen plenty of souls; he _needed _Numbers, regardless of who he hurt in the process. He regretted nothing. He _couldn't_ regret.

Taking a deep breath to clear away the unwanted thoughts, he reached over to nimbly pick up Yuma's discarded duel disk, and the boy didn't even notice, still trapped in a timorous daze. Kaito flipped open the case holding Yuma's Number cards and focused on the necessary, not the ideal.

Only to find that nothing was there.

"It's a lie," the boy whimpered, even as Kaito narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the empty card case. "He wouldn't go anywhere without me."

Kaito briefly considered the possibility that the Numbers cards had disappeared with Astral, but no, the Numbers cards had never disappeared from his victims before.

Then again, none of his victims had ever escaped with their souls before, either.

"It's a lie," Yuma repeated, as though saying it twice would make it so.

Kaito blatantly disregarded the tears now streaming down the teen's cheeks. He knew he could offer no comfort even if he wanted to because he was the one responsible for the loss in the first place. He suspected Astral had been taken instead of Yuma.

And the Numbers had disappeared with him. Kaito normally absorbed the cards without making contact, but this time he had needed to walk over only to verify that there were none.

"Where are the Numbers cards?" he demanded, trying one last time to receive a coherent response.

The teen's head was still buried in his arms, showing no sign of acknowledgement. Again, he roughly shook the other boy's shoulders, but the action proved pointless when Yuma didn't so much as look up.

Kaito closed his eyes, forcing himself to rationalize the situation.

They'd had a normal duel, with Yuma seemingly talking to himself but in reality had been strategizing with Astral. Kaito had nearly lost, but in the end, had pulled off a narrow victory. After dealing the finishing blow of their duel, Yuma had promptly turned away, more concerned with Astral than his opponent, and after a flash of light the boy had collapsed in despair.

A flash of light. Light required energy. His eyes snapped open. Scanning over the shivering duelist in front of him, Kaito searched for a possible source, his eyes stopping abruptly when they reached the Emperor's Key.

He had stolen the necklace before. Supposedly a key connecting humans to the Astral World, he ascertained that it did contain otherworldly powers, although he didn't believe it so blindly as Yuma. He lacked the trust the boy had for this 'Astral', and what he saw of the key could easily have been mimicked by modern day technology.

Reaching out cautiously, he grasped the key carefully, tugging gently. The other boy continued to stare ahead, his eyes looking eerily dead. Kaito stood quickly, hiding his unease and regarding the key thoughtfully.

He needed to save his brother. To do so, he needed the Numbers cards, and for that, he needed facts.

Somehow, Kaito had a hunch that the truth lay with this key.

* * *

ooo

"Hey," Tetsuo said with a grin, reaching out to ruffle his friend's hair with a rough but gentle fist. He forgot, for a moment, how recently Yuma didn't ever seem in the mood for such teasing.

Indeed, Yuma didn't shout in protest, try to escape, or recklessly challenge him to a duel. Tetsuo was reminded again that his friend no longer enjoyed play-fighting or trading insults, and appeared to have aged four years in the past four weeks. It was the worse kind of feeling, he thought, to lose a friend even when they were right there in front of you.

The grin quickly faded and his arm drew away, but no one could ever claim he lacked determination, because he forced the corners of his mouth back up and tried again.

"Yuma, let's duel," he repeated. His friend looked up with a start, as though he'd just noticed the other boy's presence.

"Oh, hi, Tetsuo," Yuma mumbled, standing quickly from his seat. He edged around his classmate even as he forced his own smile on his face. Tetsuo thought it looked more like a grimace.

"Hey," he said for the he-lost-count time. "Do you want to duel?"

Yuma's smiling grimace intensified. "Aw, too bad, I can't today. I promised my sister I'd run an errand for her before I go home. Sorry."

"Oh," Tetsuo said dubiously, although his friend didn't seem to notice.

"I'll see you tomorrow," Yuma continued casually, recovering his usual cheer quickly and lazily reaching up to place his hands behind his head. His smile smoothed out, so practiced that it _almost_ looked real.

"Yuma..."

"Tell Kotori 'bye' for me," he said brightly, with his voice just a little bit off pitch and his words just a little bit too carefree. Tetsu frowned, but Yuma didn't notice, didn't _want_ to notice, because if he did he would know that for all the effort he put into his act, he wasn't actually fooling anybody.

He skirted around his friend, walking away with a deliberate sheepish smile before turning away. He made sure to throw back a carefree wave.

As soon as his back was turned, his lips uncurled and the laughing lines around his eyes smoothed out, vanishing without a conscious effort.

His friends worried about him, he knew. It had been a month since Astral had disappeared, but Yuma only missed his dueling partner more and more as time passed. He couldn't always hide it.

_Astral would want him to be happy,_ his friends told him. But why the hell should he be happy, then, if Astral wasn't around to see it, anyway?

For his friends, Yuma faked a smile. He could manage a small smile and a little acting so his friends didn't suffer along with him.

He still felt empty_._

He told himself he'd recover from this is no time, and soon he'd _really_ be okay, not just acting like he was. If he didn't, then he'd just have to perfect the acting. He was already getting better.

Yuma blinked, finding himself in his room without really remembering how he'd arrived. He recalled leaving the school, but he couldn't remember the walk. Sighing, he collapsed in his hammock, only mildly disturbed by his lack of awareness. He spaced out so often now, sometimes he didn't even notice the lapses in his memory.

It was ironic that although he wanted nothing more than Astral's companionship, he avoided all other offers. Errands for his sister, a sudden interest in doing his homework (they never believed that one), or even saying he was going to search for someone to duel. Anything to avoid them. His friends were company, but they were the _wrong_ company.

And for thinking that way, he didn't deserve their comfort, regardless.

The lies only became worse. Later he would reenact epic duels he had never fought, tell them about his wins and losses even though he hadn't so much as _looked_ at his deck since Astral disappeared. It wasn't an express effort to avoid it. He had just lost any inclination to duel.

So maybe Yuma was having a harder time getting over Astral than he let on. But as long as he didn't show it, he concluded he could be as miserable as he wanted. He wasn't selfish if only he suffered.

A loud and obnoxious tap on his window interrupted ceaseless self-pity.

He ended up falling out of his hammock, his arms flailing before inevitably landing gracelessly and painfully on his knees. Scrambling to stand and glare furiously at the perpetrator, he was shocked to see Kaito's robot, Orbital 7, perched on the half-open window.

"Orbital 7?" Yuma asked, somewhat confused. He was torn between remaining in his apathetic stupor or faking emotion for a robot. "What are you doing here?"

"Toma," Orbital 7 exclaimed, waving its mechanical arms anxiously at the sight of him. "I bring a message from Kaito-sama."

Yuma frowned, but didn't feel the motivation to remind him that his name was actually '_Yuma_'. Besides, the sudden announcement of his rival interested him far more, especially since Kaito had caused Astral's disappearance.

"Kaito?" Yuma asked warily, his voice lacking his usual light-hearted idiocy and energetic demands. He decided the robot wouldn't care whether he put in the effort or not. He stepped forward, ducking under his hammock. "What does that guy want?"

"Lord Kaito wanted me to give you a message," Orbital 7 proclaimed dutifully, his metal arms still moving frantically as he spoke. He didn't seem to notice or care about Yuma's uncharacteristic lack of enthusiasm.

Yuma waited with dull patience, unaware that the message would snap him out of his dead, zombie-like existence of the past month and redefine his entire life yet again.

"He knows where Astral is, and he wants to make a deal in exchange for the information."

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**Oho. Is Astral dead? Is he? Is he? :D**

**...Eheh. Wouldn't be much of a story if I killed him off in the first chapter, would it? ;) (answer: No. No, it wouldn't be.)**

**I'd love opinions on this. Please review? :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you so much**_** Nicole, PhantomChaosMagician, lightstar, Brennason, Photon Drake, SilverShark15, lololololol, Himmeh, DaireySyns, and Albino Shadowz!**_** Your reviews were lovely. :)**

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"Lord Kaito. I brought you Yuma, just like you asked," Orbital 7 declared proudly, clearly expecting acknowledgement for accomplishing his worthy and less-than-challenging task.

As per usual, both of the humans in the room ignored him thoroughly.

"Kaito," Yuma demanded immediately, not bothering to greet his rival and paying little attention to the odd robot. His voice rose, stumbling only slightly before continuing. "What do you know about Astral?"

Despite his voice cracking on the name of his missing friend, he tried to quash the anticipation he felt at the possibility that Kaito knew something, _something that could bring Astral back_. Regardless of his efforts, however, he didn't quite succeed. His voice trembled with apprehension, hope building and building even though he knew it could easily be shattered.

He always had been unusually optimistic, but the blessing could quickly become a curse if the hope only led to a more crushing disappointment.

Unfortunately, much to Yuma's annoyance, Kaito displayed even _less_ interest in Yuma as he had in Orbital 7. In other words, none at all. He was left staring at duelist's back, his pride wounded by the lack of recognition.

"Kaito," Yuma said again loudly, angrily clenching his fists.

His voice echoed across the large and empty room; the only other sound the clicking of fingers on a keyboard. Kaito face was illuminated eerily in the darkened room, adapting an unnatural bluish tinge. The surrounding blackness made Yuma feel oddly alone, despite the presence of the other duelist. The blond never glanced up from the holographic computer screen and typed rapidly without pause.

"You still have your soul." Kaito finally stopped, abruptly turning to face Yuma and observing him fixedly. Raising his eyebrows, he studied the other boy intently. "Did you ever stop to wonder why?"

His tone contained the slight contempt that always made Yuma's temper flare, but this time, the question startled him too much to retort.

"What?" Yuma managed, taken aback. He fidgeted uncomfortably beneath Kaito's gaze. His stare seemed more intense when his eyes glowed a stormy blue-grey in the artificial light of his computer, completely at ease in his own world.

Yuma was reminded again how much danger he had placed himself in, entering Mr. Heartland's building without his knowledge. Orbital 7 had assured him Kaito would prevent the man from finding out about his presence, and that the computers and materials were necessary for the demonstration. Yuma decided to take the risk, focusing on his desire for knowledge on Astral.

"After you lost to me, I couldn't take your soul as I normally do," Kaito elaborated, matter-of-fact even when discussing the supernatural and impossible.

"Oh," Yuma finally muttered. He actually _had_ wondered, briefly, but it had seemed unimportant compared to the loss of Astral.

"I came up with two plausible theories," Kaito went on as though Yuma hadn't spoken. "The first option was that you had no soul. It would certainly account for your stupidity," he mused briefly, glancing over at the other teen.

"Hey," Yuma protested, a flash of his old self visible as he instinctively reacted.

"But," Kaita continued as he stepped aside, allowing the other boy the first glimpse of his computer. Yuma scowled, but didn't interrupt. "I've concluded that the second option is much more plausible after studying the Emperor's Key."

Unconsciously stepping forward, Yuma gawked at the holographic image, his path illuminated dully by the azure gleam. His eyes widened, immediately recognizing the unmistakable golden momento his father had given him so many years ago. The object was suspended in the center of a spherical hologram, complex figures and stats surrounding it, analyzing the key and providing indecipherable information. Or at least, indecipherable to him. Kaito undoubtedly understood it.

"That's _my_ Emperor's Key," Yuma blurted, momentarily distracted from the more pertinent issue at hand. His surprise quickly turned to anger and he turned to Kaito with his fists raised. "You stole it. I thought it had disappeared with—with Astral..." he trailed off.

He looked away from his rival so Kaito wouldn't see his expression, but the blond gave no indication that he noticed his watering eyes.

"I have reason to believe that Astral may not have disappeared after all," Kaito said offhandedly, neither denying the accusations nor admitting them. "If you weren't such an idiot, maybe you would have listened when Orbital 7 called you over here. I'm assuming he gave you the message?"

Kaito glanced over at his robot servant for the first time, his flat gaze waiting expectantly for a reply.

"Yes, Kaito-sama, I gave Toma the message," Orbital 7 nodded quickly, seeming flustered. His master turned away, not even nodding in acknowledgement before returning to his guest.

"He said you had a deal," Yuma said, trying and failing again to ignore the possibility that he could see his friend again. That he could save him and Astral wasn't _dead_. "What was he talking about?"

"I know where Astral is. I'm willing to make a trade," Kaito spoke indifferently, as though he didn't care whether or not Yuma accepted. "The information I have in exchange for your Numbers cards."

Yuma's expression slackened in shock, and he noticed for the first time that Kaito spoke carefully, steadily watching and analyzing his reactions. He could see the surprise, the hope, the excitement, and the suspicion all fighting for control over Yuma, because if Kaito knew where Astral was, that meant he was _alive._

In the end, his mouth turned down into a troubled frown despite the possibility. He wanted to believe Kaito, he wanted to believe him _so badly_, but this had to be a trick. After all, Yuma knew where Astral was, too.

"Astral went back to the Astral World," Yuma said defensively, not willing to admit out loud or even to himself that it was either there or heaven. "And I don't have any Numbers cards anymore. They disappeared after we dueled."

"I know that," Kaito brushed off the argument impatiently. "But I suspect that Astral has the missing Numbers cards, and that he isn't where you think."

Yuma frowned in frustration, disliking how Kaito always made him feel so much inferior. Astral could always keep up with the other man's rationale, but without him there, Yuma had no one to explain with Astral's matter-of-fact patience. He felt like he should see where this was leading, but couldn't quite do so without someone to give him a reminder. Like a math problem he knew how to finish but forgot how to start.

"What do you mean?"

"If I tell you where you can find him," Kaito spoke slowly, probably to account for Yuma's infamous stupidity. "I want you to take the Numbers cards and give them to me."

"I can see Astral again?" Yuma asked uncertainly, not daring to believe it. He watched as the other duelist nodded. "But—the Numbers cards are part of Astral's memories," he realized with a frown. "I can't give you those."

"I'll allow you to keep one," Kaito said, probably aware that Yuma would never trade away Hope. Or maybe the boy would, to see Astral.

Still, perhaps even Kaito wasn't so heartless to take away that from someone who had already lost everything else.

"One?" Yuma started. "But—"

"The rest I need."

"But—" Yuma tried again, pausing and expecting to be cut off, and then continuing uncertainly when he wasn't. "What if Astral doesn't have the Numbers cards?"

He desperately wanted to see his friend again, but if he had to sacrifice the Numbers for that, he wondered if Astral would hate him, anyway.

He couldn't make this deal without discussing it with his partner, yet if he _didn't_ make this deal, he'd never discuss _anything_ with Astral.

"Then you get the better end of the deal," Kaito said simply. "Do you accept?"

Yuma stood frozen, feeling he shouldn't agree to this deal but incapable of turning it down. He felt that no matter what he did, he would let down his friend. If he accepted, he would force Astral to give up the memories they had worked so hard to retrieve. If he declined, he'd never see him again.

The decision was shockingly easy. If he was betraying his friend no matter what he did, then he thought he might as well follow his heart. Yuma wanted to have his partner back.

Besides, for all he knew, his friend could be in danger. He would explain what had happened to Astral, and surely his friend would understand why he'd given up the cards. They'd give them to Kaito and then they'd start over and acquire new ones.

"I accept," he said at last, selfish, guilty relief washing over him. Kaito contrasted Yuma's troubled expression with an unconcerned nod of satisfaction.

"You'll uphold your end of the bargain?" the teen asked, studying the boy's reaction with indifference.

"What? Of course," Yuma said furiously, insulted that Kaito thought he might break his word.

Kaito merely watched him for a second more before turning away to face the computer holding the Emperor's Key, his expression unreadable. Yuma uneasily walked up behind him, wanting a clearer view of the three dimensional screen.

"You believe Astral is from another world, the 'Astral World'," Kaito immediately began to explain, his tone laced with doubt. "And that the connection to this 'world' is this key."

"It is," Yuma declared indignantly. "Astral told me-"

"He _told you_," Kaito cut him off, facing Yuma with narrowed eyes. "How do you know he wasn't lying?"

"Astral wouldn't lie to me," Yuma claimed fiercely. "He's my friend. I trust him."

"Really?" Kaito asked dubiously, tapping one last button on the keyboard. "Then did he also tell you that the Emperor's Key is nothing more than a tiny computer?"

A larger and more detailed holographic image of the Emperor's Key appeared, projected in front of them and amplified at Kaito's command. It was an impressive replica. Yuma had to admit that it looked exactly like the real one, but enlarged.

"What?"

Yuma's eyes widened in disbelief, his head whipping around to stare at his rival in surprise. He had to admit that he never really wondered what the Key was made of, always assuming it to be so fantastical he wouldn't understand. A _computer_ hadn't been in his realm of consideration.

"It's cleverly hidden," Kaito went on, gesturing to the holographic model. "The first time I took the key, I didn't even notice. It took me nearly three weeks to unlock what it was hiding."

Yuma sighed reluctantly, unsure what Kaito was implying. "So the Astral World has computers?"

"No, you moron," Kaito frowned impatiently. "Look, let me put this as simply as I can. Did it ever occur to you that Astral has many similarities to a Duel Monster hologram?"

Kaito entered another sequence of commands, typing away with an easy grace. A small holographic image with a striking similarity to Astral appeared in place of the key, and Yuma studied it, completely puzzled. He didn't understand how Kaito knew what Astral looked like, when no one had been able to see the alien besides himself and Haruto.

"I guess," Yuma answered hesitantly. "But I was the only one who could see him."

"Similar to how in a duel, the only people who can see the monsters are the people wearing the AR-vision glasses," Kaito said, clearly having anticipated Yuma's response.

"Yeah," he agreed slowly, crossing his arms.

"So wouldn't it be easy, then, to make it so only _you_ can see Astral?"

"But then I'd have to wear Duel Gazers," Yuma protested, immediately disliking the thought that Astral was merely a projection. He'd been too _real_ to be a computer.

"Unless you had an operation, surgically giving you a replacement for the Duel Gazer...and making _you_ the only one who can see Astral," Kaito told him.

Yuma truly didn't like how Kaito was starting to make sense.

"No," he shook his head violently. "I would know if I'd had surgery!"

"You wouldn't have to know," Kaito contradicted him easily. "They could have drugged you, and these days, you might not have even felt anything after a minor surgery like the one we're talking about."

"I would know—"

"It doesn't matter. There are other possibilities," Kaito interrupted, disregarding his concerns. "Technology I haven't considered yet."

"No," Yuma denied strongly. "That doesn't change the fact that Astral was_—is_—my friend. He can't be just a hologram. He spoke to me, he had _feelings._ A hologram can't have emotions like Astral did—"

"That's true," Kaito allowed, and Yuma let out a breath of relief. Relief that was depressingly short-lived. "Unless someone was controlling the hologram from somewhere else."

"Somewhere else?" Yuma repeated, feeling somewhat dazed by what Kaito was implying.

"Yes, a living _human_ who projected himself from another location. The key would have allowed him to see you, too, and a computer could have altered his appearance to make him look inhuman."

"But-"

"I did some research. I investigated people who may have played the part," Kaito continued. "And I found someone who matched the requirements perfectly."

Yuma was still shaking his head, unable to process it all. "That's not possible."

"The technology used in this key has the trademark of a large corporation known as KaibaCorp," he explained, even as Yuma stared at him blankly. "There, I found an employee who had contact with your father right before he disappeared."

Yuma watched as Kaito brought up a picture of a man, clearly young, with a serious expression and striking yellow-green eyes.

He inhaled sharply at the image, because even if he didn't want to believe what Kaito was telling him, this man's resemblance to Astral was shocking. He had his serious gaze, the same shape of his eyes, his slim figure, and his proud posture.

"Age sixteen, dueling prodigy, and working as a tech scientist at KaibaCorp," Kaito listed off. "There is no Astral World. Your 'Astral' is a teenage boy living several hours away in the city of Domino."

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**I appreciate all feedback...May I humbly request a review? ^.^**


	3. Chapter 3

**Big thank you to **_**Ghetto-Kaiba09, Himmeh, TheOtakuGamer1, Albino Shadowz, BlackAngel873, Anon, ygozfan, lightstar, XanaduHawk, and yandare-tsundere**_**! I really appreciate the support. :)**

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_99 Kame Apartments_.

Yuma read the address again and then glanced up from the slip of paper to warily eye the door in front of him. Yes, he had officially reached 99 Kame Apartments.

He had promised Kaito all of the Numbers cards for those two simple words and a couple of digits. He had left his sister and grandmother with only a note and no goodbyes, impulsively departing for the first train and disregarding the consequences.

Yet for all his sacrifices and recklessness, Yuma wasn't sure he _would_ find Astral.

He didn't even know if Astral existed.

Kaito insisted that Yuma had been conversing with a real person and not a computer, but this person lived in _their_ world, and most certainly did not exist as an 'energy being' from another galaxy. Astral was Asutora Sekai, a first year college student who worked part time at KaibaCorp and lived in a humble, earthly apartment.

Yuma had been standing in front of his apartment for several minutes, repeatedly reaching up to knock and then lowering his hand before he ever made a sound. He was vaguely aware that his hesitation probably merited embarrassment on his behalf, but residents passing by him on their way to Saturday errands gave him no more trouble than an inquisitive glance. Apparently Asutora Sekai did not suffer from nosy neighbors.

He wanted Astral to be alive. Of course, if this Asutora _was_ him, that would mean his friend lived peacefully and safely, but selfishly he also yearned to trust. Astral had told Yuma that if they lost a duel he would die. Surely he wouldn't have lied about his very _existence_.

And if his friend had really deceived him all that time, secretly laughing at how gullible and how _stupid_ Yuma was even while pretending that they were comrades, then he had to wonder if they had ever been friends at all.

He thought he might hate Astral if he had truly lied and acted and faked through every moment they'd had together. He clenched his fists tightly at the thought, almost overcoming his qualms of announcing his presence because at least knocking on the door would give him something to _pound_.

Even so, regardless of if it meant he'd been manipulated and his trust betrayed, he couldn't bring himself to walk away. He needed to see for himself that Astral wasn't dead.

He lifted his hand to knock.

Before he had the chance, however, the door opened with a click and his arm froze in mid air, his fist still posed to tap. His mouth fell open, an indistinct garble coming from his throat, and the man on the other side of the door stared with undisguised shock.

Then the man, with the pale blue hair and startling yellow-green eyes, broke into a soft smile. "Yuma."

He didn't need Kaito to tell him that this person was Astral. The smile, the eyes, the voice. Different, yet exactly the same. If Astral was a human, then this was exactly how Yuma would have imagined him.

Given the situation, he didn't need to imagine anything.

The person who was Astral _but wasn't at all_ reached out with thin, graceful fingers—not blue, but instead an unusual white, the pale skin of someone who didn't often see the light of day and when he did he only burned—to touch him, and maybe pull him into an embrace.

Yuma flinched away and stepped back. The smile on the man's lips faded and distress replaced his former delight, his hand drawing away but unwilling to return to his side. It twitched, as though it wished to reach for him again and feared the result, but Yuma didn't feel an ounce of guilt. He realized now that he would never see Astral again, because Astral wasn't real. His friend was nothing but a role, and now the actor who had brilliantly played the alien accomplice had finally dropped the character.

"Yuma—"

Astral was human. He was a young, normal human just a few years older than himself. A _living, lying_ human. Yuma felt his eyes burning, a combination of relief, humiliation, anger, and joy all threatening to pour down his face. Astral lived, but in a way, he thought this was almost worse than death, because now it was like his friend had never existed in the first place.

Both of them watched each other for one long, surreal moment, and then the first tears leaked out, breaking the temporary spell. He didn't notice at first, too caught up in his own turmoil of emotions, but Astral—no, it wasn't Astral, he reminded himself—reached out to touch his face, to wipe away the droplets sliding silently down his cheeks.

Yuma flinched away again, stumbling backwards and an uncomfortable nausea consuming him. He violently rubbed away his tears with his own sleeve and while his eyes were still moist, they narrowed in anger. He glared at the floor, not ready to meet the eyes of the imposter_,_ and decided he despised this man. He'd mourned Astral for over a month. He'd felt like he was suffocating in loneliness and burning with guilt.

And the whole time, Asutora Sekai had uncaringly, leisurely gone on with his life while knowing how much Yuma had missed him.

He turned sharply on his heel and broke into a run, his footsteps pounding and doubtlessly irritating tenants on the lower floors. He ignored the dismayed call of his name, yanking open the door to the stairwell without hesitation and dashing down them as fast as he could. All he wanted now was to get away from Astral and his human body, his human name, his human life, and his _stupid apartment_-

"Wait, Yuma!"

Glancing above him, he saw the man looking down at him from a level above, peering down the stairwell with his arms braced against the rail. Yuma froze for a moment, and then started down the stairs twice as fast, and behind him he heard the man giving chase and pounding down the stairs as well. His anger was temporarily overridden by panic as he sprinted for the last set, the bone-deep animalistic fear of being caught pumping adrenaline through his veins.

He wasn't thinking straight anymore, all his energy now focused on fleeing, an irrational terror of capture suddenly driving him faster than he'd known he could run. As soon as he reached the bottom, he darted through the last hallway and out the door, hoping the man would give up once he reached outside.

No such luck. A few seconds later, he looked over his shoulder and saw that he was still being chased. Breathing hard but not pausing for rest, human Astral followed persistently behind him, even though Yuma was clearly faster.

He would have gotten away. Yuma always ran late, never stood still, and could shamelessly outrun his demanding sister when necessary (his grandmother was another matter, but that wasn't to say he didn't try). He prided himself on his expertise at dodging pedestrians and jumping down entire flights of stairs. In fact, all things considered, his pursuer did a fairly good job of keeping up, but after several blocks Yuma was noticeably gaining ground.

He could have left the man there. He wanted to, but even when betrayed and furious, it just wasn't in Yuma's nature to leave behind someone in pain.

The man wheezed, coughed, and struggled to breathe. Most disturbingly, however, was that even when hunched over and sounding like imminent death, Asutora still tried to keep running. He raced after Yuma on determination alone until he finally collapsed.

Yuma paused, running in place and preparing to start sprinting again at any second, but then fell still altogether. He waited for the man to start breathing normally and to stand, deciding he would continue running the moment he did, but he just kept coughing and coughing and _coughing—_

He hesitated. The panic of pursuit hadn't worn off yet and it defied all his instincts to go back within reach, aware that he could use Asutora's incapacitation as an opportunity to make a mad dash for the train before he recovered. Yuma considered the idea, taking a couple of uncertain steps away, much like a spooked animal.

Then, almost against his will and certainly before he consciously decided to, his feet started moving back to his former partner's side, kneeling next to him with his hands hovering worriedly over him.

It looked like an asthma attack, so Yuma tentatively searched the pockets of Astral's jeans for an inhaler. He glanced around, searching for help, but the nearest people were a few teenagers down the street who were too wrapped up in their own conversation to notice without him walking over and leaving Asutora on his own.

"Hey," he said, his voice increasing in volume and hysteria the longer he waited for a response, unsure what to do or if he should even touch the other boy. "Hey! What's wrong? What should I—"

His panicked stuttering was cut off when the other teen suddenly lurched forward, capturing him in a painfully tight embrace, wheezing for breath even as he leaned on Yuma's shoulder. He fell backwards under the weight, until they were sitting in the middle of the sidewalk in a one-sided hug. Yuma sat tensely, frozen in place while his heart pounded, experiencing a sick feeling at being caught.

"I'm sorry," the boy apologized in a pained, breathless whisper. "I'm sorry...Yuma."

Yuma felt his eyes water and his arms reached up, whether to push the man away or return the gesture, he wasn't sure. In the end, they fell limply at his sides. He leaned forward and although he didn't return the embrace, he rested his forehead on the boy's shoulder to hide his overflowing eyes, the tears both resentful and tender.

They sat there for a long time, taking no notice of the occasional passerby who gave them a raised eyebrow or a comment about 'kids these days' or 'get a room'. The man eventually regained his breath and pulled away. His face no longer held any strain, maintaining a cool and impassive gaze, an expression so distinctly Astral a stab of recognition overwhelmed him.

"Astral-" Yuma started, the alias out of his mouth even though he hadn't intended to speak, the unexpectedly distinct countenance shocking him into blurting out the name even after learning that the name was fake.

He added quickly afterwards, an angry reminder to himself, "No, _Asutora_."

"You can call me Astral," the man cut him off quietly. He sounded completely composed, but he gripped Yuma's wrist tightly, as though worried he might run away again. "It doesn't sound right if you call me anything else."

"Astral," Yuma repeated in a mutter, not meeting the teen's stoic gaze. He lifted the arm Astral wasn't holding and rubbed away the last traces of tears with his sleeve. Fixing a scowl on his face, he stood, dragging his clinging companion up with him. "You're not him. Let go!"

He shook his arm roughly, trying to break free from the grasp, but the man didn't flinch. For someone who had been trembling so weakly just moments before, he was surprisingly strong.

"No," Astral said simply, matter-of-factly. He adopted the same tone of voice he used to speak with when explaining a dueling strategy or a particularly complex card combination, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "If I let go, you'll run away."

Yuma continued to struggle, almost shouting back that _that was the point_, except knowing that to do so would only strengthen Astral's resolve. He tried to pull away without comment, but either way, the grip on his wrist was an impossible vise to break. No matter what he did his chances of escape were slim. Yuma was never the best at thinking things through.

Astral always had been the strategist.

* * *

**Note on Astral's "real" name, **_**Asutora Sekai**_**: **

**Asutoraru (****アストラル****) is the Rōmaji of 'Astral' in Japanese. I shortened it because that's a bit of a mouthful. 'Asu' means tomorrow, which I think fits, since Zexal takes place in the future. And 'tora' means tiger—and this is just a personal opinion—but Astral's gaze kind of reminds me of a cat.**

'**Asutoraru Sekai' translates to the 'Astral World', so no one would ever have the last name 'Sekai' in reality (I don't think). But I thought most English-speaking audiences wouldn't notice, so I figured it would be fine? Honestly, I just liked how it sounded. Haha. :)**

**Err, also note: I do NOT speak Japanese. So while I did my best with translation sites and what I **_**do**_** know, these names might not make any sense whatsoever. Eheh. I tried? :D**

**Please review? :)**


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